That's Arsène Wenger after his team's defeat by Hull. I'm surprised at him. He's the manager. You can't go showing you're a softie like that.There were enough ingredients to make me physically sick.
Mind you, it does remind me of something that happened to me some years ago and that I am unable to explain to this day. Manchester United were at home to Liverpool and it was nil-nil late in the game. Then Liverpool scored - I think it was Danny Murphy's goal - and there probably wasn't enough time for United to come back. We didn't. Calm and unemotional as I have learned, in the maturity of my years, to be in sporting defeat, I ambled off home. Later that day, however, I discovered what I can only call a small wound on my right shin. It was as if I had grazed it somewhere, except that the abrasion was so symmetrical in shape and I couldn't have grazed it because my shin had been covered throughout by my jeans. A burn would have done it. But how could that have happened without my feeling it (which I hadn't)? It's a mystery. Bloody Liverpool.